A Primal Moment
by leaptad
Summary: Complete. What really happened during Larry's untwinable moment with Laurel Wilson (from the episode Sabotage)


"The entire concept is just...inconceivable," Larry said, gesturing at the television screen. Laurel Wilson was curled up next to him on her couch. They had spent the day hiking. She had brought her camera for bird-watching, but that had proven to be so much wasted effort. They had not encountered a single unique species on their trek through the wilderness. So they had retired to her home to watch an episode of the X-Files that Laurel had recently acquired on DVD. "Look at this," he continued, using his hands to emphasize each word. "It's unrealistic. Do you know what the probability is of extra terrestrials successfully breeding with humans is? It's..." he paused for a moment. "It's ridiculous."

"Oh, Larry," Laurel said, smiling. "It's just a TV show. Enjoy it." Larry was focused on the screen, which provided her a few moments to surreptitiously contemplate him.

Laurel had invested her entire youth in her education. Both of her parents were academics and there was never any question in Laurel's mind that she would follow in their footsteps. She had grown up in Florida where her father was a Botanist. They had spent many long Saturday afternoons going on nature hikes until Laurel knew the scientific names of all of the local fauna. She had moved to Boston to get her PhD at MIT and had fallen in love with the city. The history, the architecture, all of it beckoned her and she bid farewell to Florida and hello to the East Coast.

Marriage had not entered her plan for her own life until late into her 30's. That was when she had met Frankie. She had gone into a smoke shop he owned to buy some cigars for her father's birthday. A simple business transaction had turned into lunch. And lunch had turned into a relationship.

She had loved the way he smelled, ike smoke and tobacco. Earthy and manly. It reminded her of her father who always bore the odor of soil after the rain from his constant digging to retrieve specimens. She loved Frankie's broad shoulders and his deep voice. She loved his thick Boston accent and the casual way he had with all of his customers. She loved, most of all, how different he was from the endless string of intellectuals who came and went at her parents' house.

Neither believed in living together before marriage, and Laurel felt herself much too old anyway for such nonsense. After three years, Laurel finally decided it was time for them to take their relationship beyond dating. And, being a strong, independent women, she felt reasonably entitled to be the one to propose.

She discovered that, not only did Frankie not believe in cohabitation without marriage, he didn't believe in marriage itself. And their relationship had ended as a matter of course following his rejection. Laurel had cried her tears and packed her bags. She had come to LA in search of warmer weather and a new start.

What she found was Larry. She had asked if a professor from the physics department would be willing to speak at her History of Mathematics symposium, and Larry had volunteered. From their very first meeting they discovered they were kindred spirits in their love of Mother Nature.

She had been merely looking for friendship, nothing more. He was a bit shorter than her, and spoke with a slightly nasal voice. His habit for inviting conversation with convoluted theories about the physical universe was endearing. He challenged her intellectually. She began to notice how handsome he was when he smiled.

And then there was Charlie. Charlie Eppes was the star of the university. A good looking, charming, young man. Brilliant beyond measure. The undergraduate co-eds, and many of those seeking advanced degrees as well, whispered about him in the halls. She wondered how male students managed to fulfill their math requirements with the majority of the female population clogging his classes. Laurel saw the attraction, but preferred her men with a few more notches in their belt.

She had stopped by Larry's classroom one day to drop off a copy of Audubon magazine she had borrowed. Through the glass door, she could see him talking to Charlie. Charlie was pacing, rattling off theories at a frantic pace while Larry stood by, nodding and listening. Finally, Larry crossed to Charlie, laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder, and talked to him, meeting his gaze intently. She could see Charlie's eyes, could see his respect for Larry, his appreciation of Larry's attention. The moment was so paternal, so fatherly. It was a tenderness Laurel had not expected of her friend and colleague. She left them, determining that the magazine could wait. They had more important business to attend to.

From that moment, the seeds of her feelings for Larry were planted. They grew like a baby inside its mother. At first, so small that they could not be detected. And then quickening and growing and expanding. She found herself looking forward to their hikes, waiting for his next brain teaser, wanting to please him with her answers.

And now, sitting on the couch, watching him concentrate on Mulder and Scully trying to find aliens, she realized that her memories of Frankie were no longer painful. She had fallen in love again.

"Now, this is what I'm talking about," Larry began again. When he spoke, his whole body became animated. "Two people do not spend years working side by side with this sort of unfulfilled sexual tension. It's just..." he shook his head and rested his hand over his mouth, his eyes still trained on the television.

Laurel laughed. "Really? I think it happens all the time."

"Laurel, please. This sort of thing is...well, it's nonsense." But Laurel wasn't really listening anymore. She was watching his mouth move as he spoke. She unfolded herself and began moving towards him on the couch. "This is why I prefer shows like..." He had finally turned to her and noticed that she was much closer than before. He trailed off.

This was it. She was either going to lose a friend or gain a lover. Looking into his clear blue eyes, Laurel was at a loss for words. Larry's hands, usually bursting with energy as he talked, now fell awkwardly to his lap, as if he were unsure what to do with them. She edged closer until their bodies were touching and was gratified to note that he did not back away. She couldn't read his emotion. Confusion? Excitement?

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back, clumsily for a moment. And then his hand slid behind her head and drew her into a deep and passionate kiss. Laurel could feel it in every part of her body.

Their arms slid around one another as their excitement grew. They came together very naturally, as if she had spent most of her life in his embrace. He finally laid her back gently.

They didn't speak, afraid to break the spell. They spent the night on the couch, wrapped in her afghan. The entire house was dark and still except for the glow of the television that illuminated their bodies, the forgotten DVD playing the menu screen in an endless loop.


End file.
